Archive: Table Top Rulebook
56-73 56 NECROMUNDA Gunfire raked the grilled metal walkway. Shotgun shells ricocheted off the structure as it hung suspended high over the rutted and crater-pocked, slag-waste floor of the dome. Las-shots left molten pinholes in the handrails and flicked flakes of rust from the corroded metal as they stung hard at the walkway’s surface. The ganger, hunkered down so as to make himself as small a target as possible, scurried across the fragile, giddily swinging bridge to safety behind a sturdy pillar. Back in cover, slamming another energy cell into his laspistol, Vito Scald darted a glance around the iron pillar. He took in his gang’s disposition around the dome in an instant. His men – the Orlock gang that went by the name of Scald’s Hotheads – were scattered around and over the ruined structures of the derelict dome. And so were their rivals for the territory – the muscle-bound, meathead Goliaths of the Ironfist Gang. Dome Seven-Seven-Three, also known as Kasto’s Claim, was now only home to Ripperjacks and other hive vermin, a ruin with nothing to offer an ambitious gang on the make. But Dome Seven-Seven- Three was the prize nonetheless, for it was the gateway to the mineral and ore rich seams of the Fingel’s Rift. Scald’s Hotheads were armed with a hotchpotch of weapons, from autoguns and serrated-edged knives to flamers and even the occasional heavier weapon. Life had been good to them of late. They had been able to kit themselves out with the best armaments credits could buy in the downhive trading post of Mercury Falls. And slowly but surely they were prevailing against their apparently more robust opponents. Vito’s opinion was that it was, quite simply, a case of brains over brawn. Suddenly an Orlock, braced against a twisted spar jutting from the broken ground twenty metres below, was enveloped in a ball of incandescent fire. Screaming like a knife-stuck face-eater, the burning man fell writhing to the ground. Vito looked to where the fireball had originated and saw the hulking, steroid-boosted form of a renegade pit slave. The cybernetically-enchanced monster still had Guild ownership studs implanted in his skull, just as he still sported the over-sized, piston-driven rock-hammer that replaced his right arm. In fact, he appeared to be more machine than man, much of his body supported by a crude exoskeleton. In his remaining hand the pit slave held a recharging plasma gun, its coils glowing blue with building energy. Vito recognised the outlaw pit slave as one Crusher Harlon. He had seen the renegade’s ugly face staring back at him from bounty flyers posted around Fluke’s Breach. There was the rattling roar of a heavy stubber as Big Aldo fixed the pit slave in his sights. Sparks flew where stub gun shells impacted against the metal portions of the slave and blood sprayed where they hit what little flesh remained. Such a hail of bullets would have killed any other ganger where he stood. Harlon, however, merely staggered backwards as his unnaturally augmented body soaked up the barrage of bullets. But that in itself was enough. As Harlon was forced back by the stubber assault, one iron-shod foot slid over the slime-slick lip of a steaming chem-pit. The top-heavy slave lost his balance and toppled backwards into the lurid, acid-yellow sludge with a gloopy splash. The toxic soup began to boil, putrid smoke rising in gaseous clouds from the chem-pit. With a metallic scream, an acid-blackened figure lurched out of the pit and fell to the ground, spasming fitfully. It took Vito a moment to realise that it was the pit slave’s scorched exoskeleton and bionic attachments, all that remained of Crusher Harlon after his acid bath. Vito could see that, with the death of the pit slave, the Goliaths’ leader, Nastrol Skedge, knew the Ironfist gang was in real trouble. Now was Vito’s chance, not only to seize Kasto’s Claim for himself but also to bring down the mighty ‘Executioner’ Skedge. Laspistol on rapid-auto Vito ran from cover bellowing an adrenalin-fuelled yell of joy and fighting frenzy. A retina-searing bolt of energy streaked past him, leaving behind it the tinny smell of ozone as it burnt a path through the air with a shrieking hiss. The las-bolt sliced cleanly through a link in one of the walkway’s support chains. The grilled gangway listed badly. The extra strain placed on the other corroded bolt soon became too much and a pin sheared. Vito suddenly found the world dropping away before him and one end of the walkway swung downwards. He teetered on the edge for a moment and then the fragmented, rubble-strewn floor of the dome was rushing up to meet him. As he plummeted the twenty metres to the ground, the Orlock caught sight of the leather coated, bald- headed figures that had entered the dome, reinforcing the Goliaths’ position. The fight for Dome Seven-Seven-Three was far from over, but Vito Scald would play no further part in it. HIVE PRIMUS THE WORLD OF NECROMUNDA Death stalked the labyrinthine tunnels of Down Town. The settlement’s inhabitants waited for the discovery of the next murder. Entire holes had been wiped out in the atrocities, Guilders and respected gang leaders amongst them. The assassin was unknown. The only clues to his identity were the small white mnemonic cards left upon each corpse. The cards displayed a manic death’s head which cackled and winked knowingly to the touch. As the death toll rose so did unrest in the settlement. Neighbours turned upon neighbours and everywhere there was an air of distrust. Wild juves roamed the empty tunnels, breaking into holes to steal, or simply to hide from the dark. The Guilders doubled the Watchmen’s rate but there were few volunteers prepared to walk the streets at night. Lothar Hex, the Widowmaker, his head tilted at a slight angle, listened intently to the voices below. He had reached a dark void above his target, an empty conduit above the hideout of Gideon Drexlar. Looking down into the room Lothar’s cold eyes focused upon the slumped figure of Down Town’s most feared gang leader. Empty bottles of Wildsnake littered the table and the floor around. From his jacket Lothar took a long flexible periscope which he pushed carefully into the ceiling grille. Rotating the device he counted four guards. Satisfied that these were the room’s only occupants he retrieved the scope and slowly began to remove the magno- bolts from the grille cover. The grille tumbled to the floor with a clatter and Lothar Hex dropped into the room, boltguns blazing. Two guards exploded before the assassin’s feet had even touched the floor, their torn bodies tossed across the room like rag dolls. The remaining guards fumbled for their weapons, firing wildly at the shadow-like figure as it sprang upon them. One collapsed in wide-eyed terror as Lothar’s dagger found his throat, the last was slammed against the wall, his body jerking like a puppet as a dozen bolt shells exploded within his chest. Lothar Hex walked towards Drexlar, his smoking guns held carelessly by his side. The gang leader glared in drunken astonishment, too numb with terror to move from his chair. The sight that met his eyes was more horrific than anything he had seen in a lifetime of Underhive fighting. The assassin’s face seemed to blur and shift. Flesh, bones and sinew liquefied and reshaped. The human face disappeared and the face that studied him so coldly was a mask of bestial evil. ‘What are you?’ gasped Drexlar, his voice shaking with terror. A grin played upon the inconstant features and the creature laughed maliciously. ‘I am the darkness,’ it replied. ‘I am the darkness inside you all.’ A single bolt shot rang out and Drexlar span from his chair as the shell struck him square between the eyes. The force of the blast carried the body across the room where it struck the far wall and slithered to the floor. The explosive bolt had erupted inside the gang leader’s head, smattering bits of bone and brain upon the wall. The creature observed the scene of carnage. Its features were human once more. Lothar Hex took five mnemonic cards from his coat pocket and placed one upon each corpse. As his fingers touched them the death’s heads upon the cards began to cackle and wink cheerfully. When he had done the assassin took a cord from his coat and attached a small magno- hook to one end. He threw it upwards through the open grille and tugged the line to make sure the hook was fast. He looked around the room. His work was finished now, for Drexlar’s had been the final name on Sliding Jak’s list. Lothar Hex could return to his master now and report complete success. The hives of Necromunda rise from the ash wastes like sheer mountain peaks. Spire upon spire, tower upon tower, the hives climb so far above the poisoned clouds they pierce the planet’s atmosphere. To its millions of inhabitants each hive is a diverse and complete world as isolated from the surrounding ash wastes and adjoining hives as from deep space and the distant stars. No-one knows how old the hives of Necromunda are. Their very size is testament to many thousands of years of growth, sprawling layer upon layer, climbing ever higher above the planet’s polluted surface. The deepest and oldest layers now lie far underground, buried by the corrosive ash that piles around the hive’s base. These parts of the hive were abandoned long ago, and now they are dark and dangerous places inhabited only by mutant things spawned by chemical pollutants, disease and madness. Where the hive breaks the surface its broad base spans ten miles or more from edge to edge. From ground level the man-made mountain rises ever more steeply upwards. Weathered walls of adamantium climb through the phosphorescent layer of undercloud, a pall of acidic dust which clings to the surface of Necromunda like a shroud. The hive reaches skywards through ghostly shadow, until it eventually penetrates the cloud base and emerges into the hard light of the sun. At cloud top level the hive walls stand almost five miles above the ash waste. Above the dust layer the hive narrows into a single tall spike, a tower studded with a million lights. It stretches almost vertically above the sickly glowing cloud and reaches towards the stars. The spire is covered with armourplas blisters of many shapes and sizes. Domes on its surface shield carefully nurtured vegetation from the thin and arid air. Slim towers break from the outer shell, palaces of massive and elegant proportions yet barely significant in comparison to the hive. Cantilevered balconies hundreds of metres long jut out into open space forming the base for new construction sites. Broad circular landing platforms hang from the spire walls, and higher still gaping dark holes lead to spaceports inside the hive. Such are the hives of Necromunda, from their dark roots to their glittering tips. Each hive is a complete, self-contained world as varied and complex as any planet in the vast Imperium. A man born in the middle-layer of a hive can live and die without seeing Necromunda’s sky or setting foot upon the surface. He can labour in the guild factories or perhaps ply the trade of his family. In this way the vast majority devote their lives and their endeavours to creating the massive wealth of the world. Not all men are content to serve in the timeless fashion: a small minority dream of better things. Some crave wealth, power, or simply to escape from bludgeoning poverty. Others seek to escape the restrictions of the guilds or the crippling social order of House and Hive. Whatever their reasons, there is no shortage of young adventurers willing to chance all for a taste of wealth, prestige and power. The most important hive on Necromunda is called Hive Primus or Hive One. Hive Primus is the largest and oldest hive. Within its walls there are thousands of structural cells or domes, often many miles across and hundreds of metres high. Such a space can be built up with constructions as varied as sumptuous palaces and sprawling industrial complexes. The hive is honeycombed with domes both small and large, each built upon the other, linked by tunnels and shafts carrying traffic, power and other vital services through the hive. The hive is divided into vertically ordered zones. From its top to its subterranean depths these are: the Spire, Hive City, Underhive and the Hive Bottom. THE SPIRE The Spire extends upwards from cloud top level, rising above the mass of the hive and piercing the planet’s atmosphere. This is the domain of seven great clans called the Noble Houses. The Noble Houses are huge consortiums of galactic merchants and financiers whose leaders control the immense wealth of the planet. The most powerful of the Noble Houses is House Helmawr, also known as the Imperial or Ruling House. The leader of this House is Lord Gerontius Helmawr, Adeptus of the Imperium of Man, and Guardian of Necromunda in the Holy Name of the Undying Emperor. He rules not just Hive Primus but all of Necromunda. The Spire contains broad airy spaces and splendours unimaginable to those who dwell in the darkness below. Its people enjoy the fruits of a civilisation that spans the galaxy. From spaceports sunk deep into the spire walls ships carry the products of Necromunda all over the Imperium. In return, the riches of the galaxy flow into the hive – exotic foods, sensuous slaves, exquisite artwork and rare materials from distant stars. HIVE CITY Below the lowest level of the Spire is a layer of solid adamantium called the Wall which divides the towering upper hive from Hive City. Heavy gateways through the Wall enable carefully controlled passage between the two parts of the hive. Beneath the Wall lies the vast bulk of the working hive, the five-mile- deep Hive City that extends from cloud top level to the ground. Hive City is divided between six manufacturing empires known as Houses. Each House exists in its own part of the hive and governs its own affairs quite separately from the other Houses. The hivers, as the population is called, live in dark, cramped and polluted conditions, never seeing the sun from the day they are born to the day they die. The air they breathe is recycled from above and grows ever more bitter and poisonous as it filters downwards. Even the water is distilled from the discharge of the upper hive and their food is factory produced chemical nutrient, algae-based or spun from corpse starch. Conditions are crowded and insanitary, and, as the hive deepens, the darker and the less habitable the environment becomes. Underhive In the depths of the Hive City it is common for power or water to fail or access tunnels to collapse, creating unproductive toxic wastezones. The lower the region the worse is its air, power and access and the more unstable its structure. As the hive deepens normal habitation becomes impossible, and this region is known as the Underhive. There is no formal barrier between Hive City and Underhive because the border is constantly changing. Even as areas of Hive City are abandoned parts of Underhive are resettled and rebuilt. As a consequence Underhive is an ever- changing frontier where people are constantly seeking new opportunities or fleeing from sudden catastrophe. Underhive is a frontier in more ways than one. Not only is it a barrier between Hive City and the unimaginable horrors of the Hive Bottom, it is also a region outside the formal law and order of the hive. The people of Hive City live carefully regulated lives. They are protected by the strict social codes of House and Hive, dominated by family patriarchs, and obliged to work in the guild factories. The sprawling Underhive is lawless and anarchic, and its stockaded settlements form the only havens of relative order. Even in these refuges, murder and violence are everyday facts of life. Gun law is the common law of Underhive, and self-protection is the best and only reliable defence. The Hive Bottom At the base of the hive buildings become so structurally dangerous that the region takes on a different and even more inhospitable character. This is the final and deepest zone called the Hive Bottom. Hive Bottom is so decayed and crumbling that the original domes and foundation piles have long since collapsed, forming a layer of almost solid rubble. Within the rubble are enclosed pockets linked by holes and tunnels worn by liquids leaking from above. These pollutants and effluents, the discharge fluid of the entire hive, form a vast lake of radioactive putridity called the Sump. Nothing can live in the Hive Bottom other than the most monstrous mutants. Its denizens are the spawn of darkness and pollution. Some of these foul creatures find their way into the Underhive, or even into the lower parts of Hive City, but their natural domain is the darkness of the Hive Bottom. THE HOUSES OF HIVE CITY IMPERIAL HOUSE HELMAWR Lords of the Spire Guardians of all Necromunda NOBLE HOUSES GREIM • ULANTI • TY • RAN LO • CATALLUS • KO’IRON CAWDOR • ESCHER • GOLIATH • VAN SAAR • ORLOCK • DELAQUE The seven most important Houses are the Noble Houses whose domains extend throughout the Spire, the part of the hive that stretches above the cloud top layer. The Noble Houses are the controllers of the hive’s commerce. They trade far and wide throughout the Imperium and with other hives on Necromunda. The Noble Houses compete against each other for wealth and political power, always seeking to further their own interests at the expense of their rivals. Intrigue and fear of assassination dominate the lives of their ruling families. The most powerful Noble House is the Imperial or Ruling House of Helmawr. Its domain is the very top part of the Spire, the most desirable territory in the whole hive. Lord Helmawr, the leader of the House, controls the entire planet. He represents the mighty Adeptus Terra of Earth, the governing body of the Imperium of Man. To the greater universe Lord Helmawr is Necromunda and the planet is his to rule as he pleases. The patriarchs and merchant families of the Noble Houses vie for his attention, and are eager to perform whatever favours are necessary to secure landing and shipping rights, trade licences and tax concessions. Even whilst they curry Lord Helmawr’s favour the Noble Houses scheme behind his back, hoping that one day House Helmawr will be brought low and a new Imperial House will inherit its domain. The seven Noble Houses of Necromunda are House Helmawr, House Catallus, House Ty, House Ulanti, House Greim, House Ran Lo and House Ko’iron. These Houses play no direct part in the fighting and exploration of the Underhive which is the chief concern of this book, but their existence is important. Below the adamantium barrier known as the Wall are the domains of the six Houses of Necromunda. These ordinary Houses lack the privileges and status of the Noble Houses. Their people are confined to the cramped Hive City where conditions are squalid and dirty. The hivers, as they are called, are used to the dim light and rank air. Knowing no better, most live contented lives of toil in the guild factories, workshops, and other industries which form the chief business of the hive. The Houses are manufacturers of goods of all kinds, from foodstuffs to armaments. These products are traded with the Noble Houses and in this way the wares of Necromunda reach the wide universe. A complex but efficient trading relationship has grown up based around the competition between the Houses to produce goods, and between the Noble Houses to buy them. The people of the six Houses do not normally mix, and the borders between their domains are carefully guarded against intruders. Each House is proud of its unique traditions and disdainful of its rivals’ way of life. Where the territories of two Houses border each other it is common to find an interposing dead zone or area of fortifications. Prolonged warfare between Houses is rare but not unknown. Violence can be triggered by anything from accidental trespass to deliberate invasion. The most common cause of animosity is contract fighting. This happens when a House tries to destroy vital factories in a neighbour’s domain in order to make it impossible for them to fulfil a contract. Should this happen the neighbour will incur heavy penalties and may lose a lucrative contract to a rival House. Open hostility is rare. For one thing, war between two Houses would simply further the interests of the other four and do neither antagonist any good. Also, the Noble Houses strongly disapprove of destructive conflict because it damages trade and hinders the movement of goods. Noble Houses may threaten to take their business elsewhere rather than tolerate a hive war. Consequently Hive City is mostly peaceful and industrious, and the majority of its people are happy to toil for their House and reap the meagre rewards on offer. THE HOUSES OF HIVE PRIMUS Hive Primus alone is as populous as many large worlds in the Imperium. The majority of the hive’s inhabitants belong to one of the thirteen Houses and live in the part of the hive that forms its territory. Hive Primus is divided between the Houses much as the lands of ordinary planets are divided into nations. Every House has its own cultural traditions, distinctive linguistic traits, codes of dress and behaviour, as well as unique concerns and aptitudes. THE NOBLE HOUSES THE HOUSES House Orlock is known as the House of Iron because its foundations lie upon deep ferrous slag pits. The hivers mine these pits for the debris of ancient times and extract enough pure metal from the refuse to serve their industries. Over the centuries extensive mining of the slag has caused some lower domes to collapse. In the past this led to hivequakes and the destruction of several overlying domes. For many centuries the House has fulfilled the Ulanti Contract, a lucrative deal by which one House supplies the core requirements of the Ulanti Noble House. Previously the contract was supplied by House Delaque, but the Orlocks usurped the position by bribing Underhive gang raiders to destroy fuel lines into a Delaque guild factory. Since then the two Houses have taken every opportunity to discredit each other. Five years ago Lord Hagen Orlock was assassinated by the Delaques and relations between the Houses have never been so tense. The domain of House Goliath is situated unfavourably within Hive City and occupies some of the deepest and harshest areas. By way of compensation the Goliaths are tough and persistent by inclination. They consider the hivers of other Houses to be soft and slack. In truth all hivers are naturally robust, being inured to the toxins and deprivations which they accept unquestioningly as part of normal life. The Goliaths, however, take a stubborn pride in their ability to endure hardship. The other Houses see the Goliaths as barbaric, and unpredictable. Goliath institutions such as the fighting pits and the Feast of the Fallen do nothing to dispel the impression of a violent people inimical to their neighbours. Size and strength are seen as the measure of a man. Their style of dress emphasises a preoccupation with physique, featuring weighty chains and spiked metal bracers. HOUSE ORLOCK HOUSE GOLIATH House Van Saar is renowned for the quality of its technical products. Its technology is no more advanced than that of anyone else, progress being almost non-existent throughout the Imperium, but the House’s manufacturing processes are precise and its finished materials are of the highest quality. The Noble Houses pay a premium for Van Saar goods, and as a result the House is probably the most wealthy in Hive City. The Van Saar are reputed to be a serious minded and humourless people, with a deeply ingrained sense of order. Like all the Houses of Hive City they have a style of dress which marks them out. In the case of the Van Saar this takes the form of a tight fitting body suit designed to protect and sustain the wearer in the hive environment. Semi-permeable membranes in the suit reduce the loss of body moisture whilst various spots on the material change colour to warn the wearer of airborne toxins and reduced oxygen levels. HOUSE ESCHER HOUSE VAN SAAR House Escher is perhaps the most strikingly different of all the Houses of Necromunda. Like all the Houses it is controlled by a ruling family, and its political life and institutions are dominated by close relatives or families in service. However, unlike the other Houses which have reasonably balanced populations, that of the Escher is made up almost entirely of women. The few males are shrivelled and imbecilic, perhaps as the result of a genetic flaw within the House bloodline. Whatever the reason, they play no part in the normal affairs of the Escher. Escher society has long since developed to cope with its uniquely imbalanced population so that it is no longer perceived as a disadvantage. The Escher have a reputation for arrogance and are said to look down upon and pity all males. They are particularly dismissive of the Goliaths as simple and brutish. The two Houses are old enemies and skirmishes along their borders are common. House Cawdor is the stronghold of the Cult of the Redemption whose prophets foretell of universal destruction. Although the cult has its adherents throughout the hive, in House Cawdor it has attained the status of an official religion. For this reason the House is also known as the House of Redemption. The Cawdor attitude to the other Houses is strongly coloured by their beliefs. Amongst other things this forbids them to show their faces in public, so Cawdor can be recognised by their elaborate masks. The designs of their masks are often quite bizarre or disturbing. The Redemption demands a strict code of conduct, and those who break the rules are driven away and become outcasts. Hivers who do not follow the Redemption are worthless infidels. Needless to say, the relationship between House Cawdor and the other Houses is strained. It is often supposed that the Cawdor actively support Redemptionist outlaws in the other Houses. HOUSE CAWDOR HOUSE DELAQUE House Delaque benefits from a special understanding with the Imperial House of Helmawr, providing not just materials but also information to the rulers of Necromunda. Delaque spies are said to operate throughout the hive, observing the activities of the other Houses. It is rumoured that some of the ruling family members of the Houses, and even some Noble Houses, are in the pay of the Delaque. Other Houses are suspicious of the Delaques. Their appearance perpetuates their reputation for double-dealing and espionage. They traditionally wear long coats in which they can easily conceal weapons and other large items. Most are very pale and bald headed. Their whispering voices are thin and eerie. Many wear dark visors or implanted filter screens to protect their sensitive eyes – an intolerance of light being a common Delaque weakness. Although the entire hive is eerily dim, the territory of House Delaque is particularly dark and shadowy as befits a people whose motives and methods are shrouded in mystery. THE MERCHANT GUILD Hive Primus alone is richer and more productive than most planets in the Imperium. The hive is a manufacturing power house, and Lord Helmawr controls the financial resources of the whole of Necromunda. Goods move constantly throughout the hive. Imports and some raw material go downwards, other raw materials come upwards from Underhive, and manufactured goods travel up into the Spire and off planet. The Merchant Guild controls all traffic between the Houses, and consequently is as populous, wealthy, and as important as any of the Noble Houses themselves. The families which comprise the Merchant Guild are called Guilders. Guilders are a closely bound people, intensely loyal to their own kind and insular in tradition. They are secretive about many aspects of their dealings and way of life. To other hivers their style of dress and habits are strange and incomprehensible. Amongst themselves they speak a secret language quite unlike the common tongue of the hive. The Guilders have no territory in the hive. They live wherever their business takes them, sometimes basing themselves in the domain of a single House but more often wandering from one place to another. The strict laws of Hive and House protect itinerant Guilders, their safety is guaranteed by the House itself. The same laws that protect Guilders also forbid them from owning property in the Hive City or the Spire, so warehouses, trading posts, and accommodation are all provided by the House. Not all Guilders are equally wealthy or important. The more prosperous families live in the Spire and control trading empires which shift vast cargoes between Hive City and the Noble Houses. At the other end of the spectrum are the lone speculators who trade in Underhive, ever hopeful of discovering some new lode of iron slag or a hoard of archeotech. These adventurous individuals are often encountered deep in the hive, either on their own or accompanied by hired guides and protectors. In the Badzones Guilders often hire gang fighters to protect them from outlaws and mutants. Guilders provide Underhivers with the only secure way of storing large quantities of money. This they do by keeping money secure as Guild credit, a form of deposit account that all Guilders will honour. If a Guilder should die, his debts, accounts and other business arrangements pass to his successor. Guilders also supply Underhivers with their physical currency in the form of Guild bonds and Guild tokens. Bonds are large denominations, oblong chips of ceramite bearing an indelible imprint of value. Smaller token chips are carried as loose change and are used within the settlements as everyday currency. These Guild tokens are often referred to simply as credits. Guilders wear a distinctive merchant badge of credit suspended upon a heavy chain. The more wealthy a Guilder, the bigger and more ornamental his badge. This serves as a sign of office and identifies the Guilder when he passes through House check points. The merchant badge is also a device, a tool of his trade, imprinted with access codes to his central autoledgers and credit rating. The badge guarantees the Guilder’s trading arrangements on behalf of the Merchant Guild, and is used as a seal, both electronically and physically. The Underhive lies beneath Hive City and beyond the laws of House and Hive. Its depth varies from a few hundred metres to almost a mile and its extent is neither constant nor strictly delineated. The crumbling margins of Hive City simply melt into the upper zones of Underhive. It is a no-man’s land: the Badzones... Downhive. Here a man can make a new beginning or come to a sudden end. Everyone knows there are fortunes to be won in the depths for those willing to take the chance. Underhive is where gang fighters pit themselves against each other. This is the place of battle and as such it is the part of the hive that we are most interested in. STRUCTURE The physical structure of Underhive is the same as the rest of the hive. The hive probably began as a single hab-dome of plascrete or some other highly durable material. Over the years, more domes were added together with broad tunnels and shafts to connect them. Eventually, new domes were built on top of the old, and further domes were raised on top of these, producing a honeycomb of large enclosed spaces. The thick walls and foundations of these man-made caverns give the hive its structural integrity. A dome provides a broad open space which is further divided into zones of factories, houses, commercial buildings and a myriad other structures. Each dome sits upon a deep foundation layer which incorporates a sub-level maze of power lines and supply pipes. Larger domes also have tall reinforcing pillars which support the roof. The geography of the hive is therefore one of a series of interconnected domes or caverns linked by major tunnelways or shafts, and divided internally into built up areas. BADZONES It is with good reason that the hivers often refer to the Underhive as the Badzones. Hive City is dark, polluted and decaying but Underhive is a hundred times worse. Its domed caverns are dark and ruinous. Collapsed floors and fallen buildings have reduced many areas to wastezones of rubble and debris. Poisonous effluvia, toxic dust and the filth of the hive seep downwards and bury everything in a thick layer of detritus. Underhive has a geography all of its own. Amongst the tangle of ruins there are isolated pockets which can be made habitable with a little effort. In places the rubble conceals remnants of previous occupation – machinery or artefacts which can be reclaimed or traded. Scattered across Underhive are outcrops of naturally formed ores or ancient refuse which can yield rare and valuable minerals. Entire regions remain unexplored, and much of the hive is unreachable because of blocked and flooded tunnels. There are plenty of domes which are simply wastezones, neither habitable nor containing anything of obvious worth. Tunnels and vertical shafts link the domed chambers together. The tunnel structures are weaker than the domes they serve, so they are often destroyed or partially blocked even if the dome itself is intact. Sometimes a narrow crawlhole through the debris may allow a man to squeeze through, but narrow tunnels are dangerous and often lead nowhere or end in flooded sumps or sudden drops. The whole of Underhive is a complex maze where it is only too easy to become disorientated and lost. THE UNDERHIVE The Underhive lies beneath Hive City and beyond the laws of House and Hive. Its depth varies from a few hundred metres to almost a mile and its extent is neither constant nor strictly delineated. The crumbling margins of Hive City simply melt into the upper zones of Underhive. It is a no-man’s land: the Badzones... Downhive. Here a man can make a new beginning or come to a sudden end. Everyone knows there are fortunes to be won in the depths for those willing to take the chance. Underhive is where gang fighters pit themselves against each other. This is the place of battle and as such it is the part of the hive that we are most interested in. SETTLERS Despite the appalling conditions there is no shortage of people who seek to make their home in the Underhive. The discontented, the poor, the disinherited and outcasts naturally gravitate downhive, away from the power of the Guild factories and family patriarchs. These refugees from the Hive City are sometimes called ‘green hivers’ by established downsiders. The Badzones are a place of opportunity to impoverished but peaceable hivers who are unable or unwilling to endure the life of Hive City. With hard work tunnels can be opened up, generators and air pumps can be installed, effluent flows can be diverted and water stills erected. Slurry pits and hive dust can be coaxed to yield crops of algae, mutant fungus and nutritious slime. Over the years order can be restored and eventually an area may even be reclaimed for Hive City. Underhive communities tend to be small affairs, a few simple holes and dens rather than entire towns. There are also some fair sized and well established settlements such as Glory Hole, Slag Town, Dust Falls and Dead End Pass. All the larger downhive settlements are protected by tall stockades which the inhabitants raise out of the surrounding debris. Shelters and other buildings are converted from the ruins and materials scavenged from the refuse. It’s possible for a family to survive by cultivating edible fungi, algae, slime or the parasitic lichen that grows upon them. In some places settlers raise animals native to the Badzones such as rats, blood beetles, giant slugs, blind snakes and mutant dogs. The bigger settlements have a kind of order, albeit utterly unlike the strict social codes of Hive City. There are places to trade, small workshops where equipment can be made or repaired, and people offering services to travellers. A bed for the night, a room, an annual bath, or just food and drink, all can be readily bought or bartered. The most valuable commodity of all is often information. News of ore strikes and tunnel openings are typical of the rumours that can make a man rich if he’s quick enough. GUILDER TRADERS Most settlements have trade posts where Guilders can sell their wares, or buy things that have been found, made or stolen in Underhive. Sometimes they hire fighters to protect themselves or their cargoes. The Guilders’ heavily guarded slave trains carry goods within the Underhive and between Underhive and Hive City. In larger communities it is the Guilders that really run things. Anyone who tried to cheat or harm a Guilder would soon meet with rough justice. Guilders are notoriously protective of their own kind, and will hunt down anyone who kills or robs from them. None-the- less, the Guilders are not immune from attack and their cargoes are a favourite target for outlaw gangs. Poorer Guilders sometimes strike out alone, chasing rumours of ore strikes or finds of archeotech. For every lone explorer that makes his way back to Dust Falls, likely as not mad-eyed with his clothes in tatters and babbling of untold riches, a hundred are never seen again. Underhive swallows them up. ORES AND MINERALS Some hivers come to the Badzones to make their fortune from the vast natural wealth of the Underhive. Pollutants transmute over the millennia, gradually losing their toxic properties and forming new stable compounds, including sparstone, adonite crystals, carnotite gems and dark nuggets of igneous adamantorite. These precious substances are found in the deeper parts of Underhive and the Hive Bottom. Rich deposits are very rare and searching for them amongst the poisonous wastes is hazardous. Mineral ore deposits are more common. These often originate from liquid discharges from Hive City. Working their way downwards, ore-laden wastes reach open spaces and form stalagmites and stalactites of ferrous haematite or ‘iron slag’. Some pollutant liquids filter through porous wastes which act as sieves, depositing solid ore in the form of a crust or pan. These substances are bulky and not tremendously valuable, but their exploitation is relatively easy. Ore diggers work either on their own or in groups. They often build temporary shelters round the site of a strike, and may well have to defend their workings from marauding outlaw gangs. Not all Underhivers are native born children of the warm dark domain beneath Hive City. Many come from the Hive City itself, green hivers looking for a new beginning, a clean start away from the oppressive demands of family patriarchs. The teeming Underhive takes them to its bosom, the dispossessed, the hopeful and the desperate, all are equally welcome in the great warm darkness. It seems unimaginable that those who are rich and powerful might want to share that equality – the dream of hope that wipes the past clean and rises free from entanglement and responsibility. Yet there are such people, hivers from the spire who ‘go to the Wall’, as they say, who turn their backs upon their kin and choose to live in anonymity in the Underhive. Helmawrs, Catallii, Tys, Ulantis, Greim, Ran Los, and Ko’irons, citizens of the great noble houses of Hive Primus, all have reasons to stalk the Underhive. Men with strange accents and unfamiliar names, or no names at all. Men without a past. With an agenda of their own. Hiding. Searching. Questioning. Tasting the sweet fruits of danger denied to those who live in quiet splendour above the Wall. Who can really say what drives a man who quietly sips his Wild Snake in a dark corner, away from the traffic and the cares of the world. HIVE FUNGUS Further riches can be gleaned from the mutant fungoid life forms which grow in the dark Underhive. The detritus of the downhive provides the ideal medium for fungi to grow in and, as a result, Underhive supports a substantial ecology of parasites and mutant creatures. There are tens of thousands of varieties of fungi and moulds, some edible or otherwise useful, others highly toxic and downright dangerous. Valuable fungi are much sought after. The slow growing pearl spore forms tiny lustrous pearls within its flesh; the colour and quality of individual stones depends upon which pollutants the fungus grows upon as well as its age. The most valuable of all is the Necromundan black pearl, a single large example of which is sufficient to keep a man in life-long luxury. Iron mould is not valuable in itself, but grows on rust piles and detritus saturated with sequestered iron and other metals. The mould extracts water and bound oxygen from the substrate leaving nodules of metal underneath. Other fungi have medical or intoxicant properties. Examples include the dangerous but costly icrotic slime. The possession of living icrotic slime is one of the most serious crimes in the Spire, and its export from Necromunda is forbidden by Imperial decree. Spook is a relatively common but dangerous psychic stimulant formed from fungal spoor. More useful is the curative Stinger mould, which has powerful recuperative abilities as well as strong antibiotic properties. ARCHEOTECH Much of the Underhive is unexplored or inaccessible and amongst the ruins lie factories, machines, stockpiles of raw materials and stores of artefacts buried millennia ago. Sudden structural catastrophes are not uncommon in the lower parts of the hive, so it is easy to imagine how a collapsed dome could be buried along with its inhabitants. Over time the dome will be forgotten, wastes leak in from above, and layers of hive dust pile on top of the ruins. All this can remain untouched for centuries, perhaps for millennia, until erosion or a hivequake open up a small crawlhole into the ancient dome. When a tunnel into a new area is discovered it becomes a magnet for fortune hunters. Any attempt at secrecy can only succeed for a short while, and soon the dome will be teeming with rivals. Inevitably there will be battles over the spoils, and the victors will carry away the choicest items for themselves. Archeotech is the term given to ancient finds of technical artefacts. The richest source of archeotech is lost domes, but it is possible to find old machines at the bottom of any deep layer of hive debris. The value of an item depends very much on what it is. Old rusted machinery is only good for scrap and will have to be sold for the value of the metal it contains. Isotropic crystal fuel rods, on the other hand, remain good so long as they are unused, and can be traded for a good price. Down Town is the deepest permanent settlement below the Wall and it stands in the lowest portion of the Underhive, at the bottom of an ancient effluent worn shaft that men called the Abyss. In truth it lies beyond the region of domes and tunnels that comprise the Underhive itself, upon the shores of the poisoned sump lake at the very bottom of the hive. Few come as far down as Down Town, for the surrounding domes are crushed and compacted, riddled with narrow crawlholes that are infested with evil things which feed upon the unwary. But some come, attracted by the sump lake itself, to hunt its monstrous spiders whose faceted eyes are hard as diamonds and greatly prized by the jewellers of a thousand worlds. Others come to feed upon the spoils of the hunt, to bid for the tough spider pelts and chitin, to boil down the creature’s nutritious fat or extract its deadly venom. There are a hundred petty industries that thrive upon the spiders, and upon the lesser creatures of the lake, the skimmers and slime-spawn, and other monstrous beasts of the sump. OTHER OUTCASTS Underhive exists beyond the laws of House and Hive. The Houses have little influence and family patriarchs care little about life beyond their borders. Even the Imperial House would think twice about trying to impose its will in the anarchic bowels of the hive. Underhive provides a natural refuge for those seeking to escape retribution or revenge. Individual criminals and political dissidents can melt into society without fear. Larger groups of outcasts can find a secluded place to make their home. Amongst these groups are crazed religious zealots, mutant- hating Redemptionists, Utopionists, cannibals, head- hunters and any number of misfits and madmen. Amongst those who have taken refuge in the Underhive are members of the ruling family itself. After the murder of Marius Helmawr his surviving son, Caetrus, fled into Underhive where he became a celebrated outlaw leader and popular hero. Although his uncle Lord Tiberius Helmawr tried to capture or kill Caetrus for many years he never succeeded. The Delaque agents sent to root out Caetrus and his followers were finally forced to admit defeat. Caetrus lived to reclaim his birthright after Tiberius’ death, but never forgot his Underhive years and rewarded his supporters generously. MUTANTS The constantly recycled air, water and food of the hive have an inevitable effect on its inhabitants. Pollutants and toxins build up in the bio-system causing genetic instability and mutation. The effects of this are worse further down the hive where toxins are more concentrated. Because mutation is so common minor deformities are tolerated to a degree, even in the Spire and Hive City. However, conspicuous mutants are rooted out and destroyed according to the strict laws of House and Hive. Only those who flee downhive can hope to escape and start new lives, losing themselves amongst the ever-shifting population of the Underhive. Underhive inhabitants are more tolerant of mutants than other hivers. So long as mutants keep a low profile, and are not obviously or grossly deformed, they can live peacefully even inside a big settlement. Underhivers are not inclined to ask questions or look too closely at their neighbours, and are more sympathetic to mutants in general. Of course not all are equally tolerant. House Cawdor especially are quick to turn upon mutants. Other fanatical groups such as the Redemptionists hate all mutants no matter how minor their deformities. Their creed preaches the uncompromising destruction of all deviants. For those too mutated to live in the big settlements the lawless expanse of the badzones provides ample opportunity to hide. Mutants of the most heinous varieties, scaly many-limbed monstrosities, will naturally gravitate towards the deeper parts of the hive and the Hive Bottom. They are outcasts even from the badzones. Not all mutants are physically grotesque. Some appear normal, but actually have psychic powers of one kind or another. These mutants are more readily accepted into Underhive than conspicuous deviants. Some are even welcomed and protected because their abilities are useful, such as psychic healers and precognostics. The depths of Underhive give way to the collapsed and compacted ruins of the hive bottom, the hive’s ancient foundation layer long since abandoned and forgotten by its inhabitants. This is a domain of stagnant darkness, where poisoned fumes rise from the putrid sump lake at the hive’s bottom and choke the labyrinth of crude crawlholes and ruinous caverns. Here in the darkness dwell things spawned in the toxic waste of millennia, creatures that hide from even the pallid lights of the Underhive. Sometimes they crawl from their holes, slithering up from the blackness, driven by their hunger, perhaps, for human flesh and blood. They can be glimpsed from the watchtowers of Down Town, moving through the spoil heaps as they hunt the mutant rats that feed upon the refuse there. Their eyes can be seen glimmering amongst the ruins as they study the progress of a slave train, watching for stragglers and wounded. Throughout Underhive they can be heard howling and snarling in the dark hours of lights-out, always close by yet always unseen, a sound to haunt the sleep of men. Occasionally a hunter or an ore prospector might bring in a pelt of some strange bestial thing. Some of them are men, or were, with scabrous rotting skin and talon-like nails, eyes vestigial and covered with white membranes, or black and staring without visible iris. Others have only the sham of human form, scaly and vile things with dripping maws of pointed teeth and long red tongues. Over the far wall of the Down Town trade hole there are nailed the skins of many such beasts, hundreds and hundreds of them, some rotten and eaten away by time or infestation, others gleaming with green and golden scales, a few of the skins of savages and outlaws brought in for bounty. Ratskin Settlements Ratskins live in small communities that are hidden from settlers and explorers. They cultivate cane spore, which provides food as well as reed-like building material, and they hunt the rat herds that infest the hive. For the most part they avoid the foolish intruders whose heathen ways often offend the spirits of the hive. Most settlers soon succumb to predators, toxic fungi, roof falls or some other inherent danger, which all goes to show that the hive is intolerant of those who fail to show the spirits proper respect. Ratskins and Hivers Some Ratskins hire out as guides or trackers and a few become semi-civilised as a result of contact with hivers. They can be found and hired in the larger settlements such as Dust Falls, Glory Hole and Dead End Pass. There are few expeditions that would venture into unknown wastezones without the expert aid of a Ratskin tracker. Sadly, some Ratskins are attracted to the strange ways of the hivers, and acquire a taste for intoxicants, gambling and riotous living. These troublesome individuals hang around the settlements until the inhabitants lose patience and throw them out into the wastes. Bands of Ratskin renegades are a nuisance to settlers and their own kin, and have a well deserved reputation for savagery. RATSKINS The Ratskin people have lived in the ruins of Underhive for as long as time itself, and Ratskins regard the place as their ancestral home. They know almost nothing about the world that lies above their heads or beyond the hive. Ratskins have lived apart for so long that they have developed their own language, and only the few who visit Underhive settlements to trade bother to learn the common tongue of the hive. Ratskins possess senses uniquely adapted to the conditions of the Underhive. Their sight is incredibly keen and it is commonly supposed they can see in pitch darkness. A Ratskin can smell out tiny differences in air quality, and can track other hivers or hive creatures by scent. Their hearing is also finely attuned to the hive. The slightest sounds tell them where others might be, whether a tunnel is safe, or if dangerous creatures lurk nearby. Ratskins care nothing for Hive City or the hivers that come from above. They do not understand the hivers’ insane lust for scrap metals and glittering stones. Most of all they are baffled by the foolish manner in which settlers eat toxic fungus, fall down holes, blunder into roof falls, and generally act in a senseless and dangerous fashion. Although the outsiders puzzle and often anger them, the Ratskins are content to leave hivers alone so long as they leave the Ratskins in peace. Adventurous Ratskins trade with the hivers and sometimes hire themselves out as guides or trackers, but they are a self-sufficient and proud people who neither need nor want much from anyone. Ratskins know their way around Underhive better than anyone else. They know about the main tunnels, the small crawlholes, and the shifting drains and sumps of the effluvial flows. They know ways into and through Underhive which the hivers are utterly ignorant of. They can find paths into domes which remain undiscovered and buried to ordinary men. Ratskins move through the hive effortlessly and mysteriously, disappearing almost magically, appearing as if from nowhere. The Spirit of the Hive To the Ratskins, Underhive is a living place inhabited by sacred spirits. It is a place with which they feel a natural harmony, a place which is great and beautiful in their eyes. Ratskins respect the hive as a mighty god, generous in its bounty and merciless in its vengeance. In their eyes, the Underhivers often anger the hive by causing rock falls or caving in tunnels with their clumsy excavations. Sometimes hivers go too far, trespassing into sacred places or poisoning the native pools. Underhive is a dangerous place where people gather together into gangs so they can explore, travel and fight together. Those who join a gang are called gangers. House traditions are so strong and their identities so distinct that even in the Underhive gangs are formed from gangers of one House. A Necromundan’s entire sense of self is based upon House loyalty so even the descendants of downhive settlers retain their House identity to a large extent. The bulk of gangers come from the Underhive itself. They are the descendants of settlers, some from families established in Underhive for generations. The loyalty of these established Underhivers to their House is tempered with romantic notions of life in Hive City, a place they have never been to and can only dimly imagine. Some gangers come downhive from Hive City. Young juves and discontented hivers are keen to join or form gangs, and there are always hardy Underhivers willing to give them a chance. As well as its ordinary gangers a gang might also include hired help in the form of mercenary fighters, psychic mutants or Ratskin trackers. Gang Leaders Gang leaders are usually experienced fighters who know the local Badzones and understand the dangers of the Underhive. Sometimes a ruthless desperado from Hive City will set up his own gang, but only the greenest juve or the most impoverished ganger would follow him. All gangs recruit new fighters now and again. The most successful gang leaders are highly respected and competition for membership is keen. Even the most experienced and skilful gangers may have to find new companions if their leader is slain or captured, and such fighters can always command a high price for their services. The aim of every gang leader, and eventually every ganger, is to get rich and move uphive. Some return to Hive City, where their new wealth enables them to live in luxury for years. Most dream of freedom in the Spire, away from the filth of Hive City and the repression of family patriarchs. Only the richest get to the Spire, but in the Spire money buys power of a kind unimaginable to the hivers of Hive City. ALL HOLED UP The place to start is one of the big settlements that adjoins the wastezones and deeper parts of the Underhive. Places like Dead End Pass and Dust Falls are full of gangers passing the time of day in the drinking holes, trade posts and workshops. They wait for news of tunnel openings, rumours of ore strikes, and any information that might lead them to a fortune. News is soon public knowledge. Rumours, real or false, spread faster than rat pox. Settlements suddenly empty as rival gangs scramble for a piece of the action. It’s easy to pick up odd jobs inside a settlement. Guilders hire gangers to take things from one place to another, or to protect them as they travel through the hive. The town’s traders are more than willing to pay for information or services. Local settlers often hire help to round up livestock or hump slime barrels into the nearest settlement. If all else fails a day’s scavenging in the adjoining wastezones will always turn up a few trinkets or bits of junk to sell to one of the workshops. Odd jobs depend upon good contacts, and it is these contacts which keep the gang going from day to day. The more people you know, the more favours you are owed, and the easier it is to build up your gang’s numbers and weapons stock. FIGHTING FOR FORTUNE Out in the Badzones any meeting between rival gangs is likely to end in a fire fight. A gang which runs from its rivals will end up scavenging through the poorest wastelands or raking over the spoil heaps of others. Only gangs that stand up for themselves earn the respect of other Underhivers, local traders and rival gangs. Mutual respect doesn’t stop gangs shooting at each other, but it establishes the right to scavenge over or move through a particular area. Such things are simple matters of understanding amongst the local gang leaders. Fights break out for all kinds of reasons. Accidental meetings are common, especially where rival gangs share tunnels or scavenging territory. Sometimes a gang will deliberately attack a small settlement or lone water still that their rivals use. Many gangers come from established Underhive families that live in out-holes in the wastezones. Gangs take great care to look after friendly downhivers who give them food, water and news. Often a gang depends on such people for its survival. News of freshly discovered tunnels or domes draws rival gangs like boreflies to an open wound. The richer the booty the more determined and the more bloody the fighting. Finds of archeotech, sparstones, carnotite gems, pearl spore, and any other tremendously valuable discoveries always end in fierce battles over the spoils. Even if a gang manages to fill its bags with sparstones there is no guarantee it won’t be trailed and ambushed on the way home. Big finds are often broken up and buried in secret out in the wastezones away from the prying eyes of rival gangs. GANGS GUNS FOR HIRE Few gangs have more than twenty members and most have fewer than a dozen. Of these some will be fully fledged gangers, fighters of experience who know how to look after themselves in the Badzones. Others may be young juves, out to prove their mettle to their older companions. Gangers like this can be hired in any of the larger settlements, and the price paid will depend very much on the calibre of the fighter. If a gang leader wants he can hire specialists or perhaps even one of the notorious gunfighters who offer their services to the highest bidder. These loners usually owe no allegiance to any House. They are outsiders, often half-castes or people of mysterious origin, who will fight for anyone at a price. A gang leader will occasionally want to hire a Ratskin tracker as a guide, especially if he intends to move into an unexplored or dangerous part of the downhive. Ratskin trackers can guide a gang through obscure crawlholes and tunnels, and they know ways through the hive which the gangers could never find or follow. Ratskins have uncanny senses, and can smell, feel and listen their way through a hive in a way no ganger can even imagine. Less easily found are the infamous renegades and loners. They are notorious and mysterious characters: some have an almost legendary past and many stories are told about their adventures. It is hard to imagine why many of these characters stay in Underhive. Many could afford to return uphive if they wished, but perhaps something else keeps them in the Badzones. Some of the most famous gunfighters are mutants whilst some are barely human. On the whole it is best not to enquire too closely about the origins or motives of these most powerful of all fighters. OUTLAW GANGS Even in the Underhive there is a code of behaviour which most gangers abide by. At least it is true to say that most like to be seen to abide by these standards. What they do when no-one is watching is another matter entirely. Those who break the downhive code can find themselves outlawed by a Guilder court. Outlaws are not welcomed in settlements, traders won’t deal with them openly, and other gangs can claim bounty for hunting them down. The Downhive Code Inside settlements a ganger who kills another hiver can be outlawed together with his entire gang. Serious fighting inside settlements isn’t tolerated by the Guilders who employ hired guns called Watchmen to keep the peace. Similarly, theft, fraud and violent crime within a settlement are likely to get a person outlawed or lynched. Small settlements and out-holes are also covered by this code of behaviour, although they are more vulnerable to unscrupulous raiders than big settlements. Outlaws often leave no witnesses to point an accusing finger. Any gang that attacks a Guilder, his property, or any hivers in his employment can also find itself outlawed. If a Guilder is killed other Guilders will offer a bounty for the capture or destruction of the gang responsible. Any ganger found with the property of a Guilder is likely to be executed and his entire gang outlawed. Even in the Underhive, Guilders enjoy special status and are able to move freely throughout the hive. Many Underhivers depend upon Guilder trade, so killing or robbing a Guilder is regarded as one of the most serious breaches of the downhive code. Captives and Ransom Beyond the confines of the settlements, gangs fight, wound and kill each other all the time. Inevitably, wounded gang fighters sometimes fall into the hands of their enemies, gangers who would slay them instantly if they met in combat. However, it is commonly accepted that it is unnecessarily brutal to kill a captive in cold blood. Instead, captives are ransomed back to their gang or, if this is impossible, sold off to slavers. Few gangers would stoop so low as to murder a captive as they could easily be captured themselves one day. Outlaw gangs find it hard to get by because they can no longer enter settlements to trade. With a bounty on their heads they may be hunted down and slain. Their situation can even force them to rob settlers or Guilders just to stay alive. Although they may have loyal friends or relatives who continue to support them, it is not an easy or profitable life. An Outlaw gang can buy out its outlaw status by paying a Guild price for hivers they have killed and property they have destroyed. However, if they have killed a Guilder they are never safe. The Guilders accept no blood money for their own kind and will go to any lengths to exact vengeance.